


and the heart is hard to translate

by confusingtimelessnessandtime



Series: anne fics [2]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne Shirley's Past, F/M, Family, Gen, Letters, Love Letters, POV Anne Shirley, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusingtimelessnessandtime/pseuds/confusingtimelessnessandtime
Summary: "Dear Gilbert,"she writes,"I look like my mother."It's a small thing, except that it isn't small at all. Anne has had the name Shirley all her life, but in this book she has been given proof that Walter and Bertha Shirley existed. She used to spend hours searching her face in the glass of Mrs. Thomas's bookcase and the dirty mirror hanging above the sink in her shared bathroom at the orphanage, looking for a trace of who she belonged to. She had seen siblings with the same eyes, same expressions, same laugh, and wondered who her body was kin with.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Marilla Cuthbert & Matthew Cuthbert & Anne Shirley
Series: anne fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650283
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	and the heart is hard to translate

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "all this and heaven too" by florence and the machine because I feel like the lyrics would really suit anne's dilemma of trying to explain exactly what gilbert means to her except that she doesn't want to admit that she might miss him because that shows vulnerability except that for the first time she barely has the words to explain to herself what he means to her. 
> 
> also I wanted the focus to stay on anne's definition of family and her thoughts on it but her feelings for gilbert kept sneaking in
> 
> it took a while but did you really think I was just going to see the line "dear gilbert, I look like my mother" coupled with the image of anne staring into her bedroom mirror and not think about it for weeks?

_"Dear Gilbert,"_ she writes, _"I look like my mother."_

It's a small thing, except that it isn't small at all. Anne has had the name Shirley all her life, but in this book she has been given proof that Walter and Bertha Shirley existed. She used to spend hours searching her face in the glass of Mrs. Thomas's bookcase and the dirty mirror hanging above the sink in her shared bathroom at the orphanage, looking for a trace of who she belonged to. She had seen siblings with the same eyes, same expressions, same laugh, and wondered who her body was kin with. 

Her mother had had red hair too. Anne wonders, late at night, if she's satisfied knowing that or if it's worse that she'll never know if her mother had hated her hair as much as Anne did. She likes her own hair better now that she knows where it came from. Maybe Bertha had been freckled too, or maybe that came from her father. Maybe Walter had looked out at the world with the same wide blue eyes as his daughter. Anne could have her grandmother's smile, her grandfather's temper, and not even know it.

It's as exciting as it is terrifying. Everyone around her is wearing pieces of their lineage plain as day and they don't seem to notice it. Matthew and Marilla sound like each other sometimes, and Minnie Mae looks exactly like a young Diana when she sulks. Delphine looks more like Mary even day and has Bash's eyes. Jane and Billy Andrews have similar smug faces and the Pyes all hold their head up high the same way. Anne has only seen Gilbert's father once, but his smile and expressive eyebrows had been recognisable to her instantly. She aches to know if there is anything reminiscent of her parents in her. 

Gilbert might understand that better than she thinks. His mother died when he was young, and Anne had never seen pictures of her around the house. She wonders if he grew up looking for pieces of his mother in himself like she did. It must be easier, she thinks, knowing one half of the puzzle. At least he had grown up with someone to guide him if he had ever wondered about his past. 

But Gilbert isn’t the only one to have a guide, Anne realises, with the familiar sting of tears against her eyes. Matthew and Marilla cared enough to help her discover her past, to find the pieces that made up the person she was becoming. They had plenty to pass on to her - Marilla’s pragmatism in the face of crisis, Matthew’s innate understanding of her wilder urges and quiet support through hard times and small crises alike, the trunk in Marilla’s closet containing a wedding dress their mother had worn and the brooch. Not in spite of but because of their lack of shared blood, they had grown closer than Anne had ever thought was possible. Their love was a choice, a deliberate kind of trust that Anne cherished and delighted in. The Cuthberts loved Anne not for any services she could offer but because she was herself. 

Gilbert might not understand that part. She might scribble it out, might rewrite the whole letter from the start, might think better of it and scrap the whole thing. She isn’t sure yet. It might make him sad, or it might make him think of Bash and Delphine and smile. She might keep that part if it would make him smile. 

She doesn't want to cross her writing out as much anymore, either. It looks like the handwriting in the book the Cuthberts had found, the notes written by her father in some of the pages. He had crossed and dotted and looped his letters the same way she did. Maybe he had been taught the same way, or maybe it was that she had inherited his hands which instinctively knew how to hold a pen. 

_"I'm looking into being a teacher,"_ Anne writes, trying to find the balance between a light tone to tell stories about home and to convey actual information about her life and ambitions. Teaching might be an unromantic occupation, but maybe her blood will recognise it. _"My mother was a teacher, and I'd like to see if I have any of that in me as well. I recently was given a book that used to belong to her entitled_ The Language Of Flowers, _and her notes have given me a unique insight into what I might have known. I think I would want my future children to have something like this book to remember me by. I know nothing of my parents other than their names, occupations, birthplace, and what I have been able to infer from notes in the margins of this book. I'm so glad that Delphine will know more about Mary than I do about my parents."_

She writes that Bash is doing well without him, that Marilla and Matthew have extended him and Delphine the same support they had given Anne. She thinks he would be glad to know they weren't just kind for Gilbert's sake, that they can learn and grow just like everyone else. Delphine is practically the light of Marilla's life, and Bash taught Matthew how to hold her properly so now he reads some of Anne's old books to her at night sometimes while Marilla pretends she doesn't want to hear what will happen next. 

She's only witnessed this a few times, though. Anne goes home to Green Gables three times a month, and the rest of the time she's shut up in a room with Diana, Ruby, Josie, and Tillie, at least one of whom is giggling or screeching at all times. _"Really,"_ she writes, _"baby Delphine's wails would be preferable to this din. Either Ruby's failed an exam or one of Tillie's beaux has done or said something or Josie's trying to prove her life is more interesting than any of ours. Diana's a brick, naturally. I love her so._

_"I miss you,"_ she almost writes, but she stops before she lets her pen form the words. Anne doesn't know if she misses him. She doesn't even know if he misses her, and wouldn't it be disastrous if he read the words and laughed at her, his lovely face turning scornful and sour and disdain in every line of his young face? How can she be sure he isn't making fun of her? 

The rational voice in her head points out his rejection of Winifred Rose, the kiss they had shared, the cry of "I knew it!" that came from Tillie as she wrapped her arms around Anne laughing. It also brings to mind memories of competition and the smiles he used to give her when she said something particularly whimsical. She knows she likes him, and she knows she misses him. 

_"I miss talking with you,"_ she writes, as a compromise with herself, and carries on with her letter. It's the truth, and it's more than she could have admitted last year.

She's willing to admit that being shy about her feelings about him mere weeks after he had kissed her on the sidewalk in broad daylight and their love letters had barely missed each other is a little bit silly. C'est la vie. 

Josie learned what "c'est la vie" means last week and she's been saying it at every possible opportunity. Ruby caught herself saying it yesterday, and Anne supposes it's her turn. Gilbert would find that amusing, probably. She doesn't write about that in the letter either. 

The letter is long enough, she realises, turning the pages she'd written over to see the dry ink looped like her father's hand. Gilbert probably won't have time to read all of it. Now she only has to think of a funny but sincere conclusion to the letter. 

_"Good luck at school. If you see any redheads with their noses stuck in a book, don't tug on their hair and for the love of God don't bring any root vegetables into it,"_ she teases instead. _"That's our story."_

She mulls it over for a long while, letting her candle flicker and the ink on her pen tip dry. Anne has never been good at closing statements, or at knowing when to stop talking. Maybe her mouth is her mother's too. Maybe Gilbert is waiting for a love letter and her dallying about salutations is what's causing the delay. She needs to express the affection and the uncertainty she feels when she thinks of him. 

Gilbert would understand either way, she realises. He would understand her longing to know a parent, her gratitude at Matthew and Marilla's support, her love for Bash and Delphine and her awkwardness with words she's never said to him. He would probably be the best person suited to understand what Anne feels about him. He is, after all, the only one privy to all the details of their confusing relationship. 

She doesn't know if she loves him, doesn't know if she's allowed to say it to him the way she would to Diana. He would understand either way, though. She's beginning to see that it's who he is. 

_"With all the love I dare to give,_

_"Anne Shirley Cuthbert."_


End file.
